DeCeption
by Lix9799
Summary: She thought she found her place.  Her reason for existence.    "There's a Greek myth.  The main character shares your name, Ariadne."  The bishop tipped over and landed with a sickening thud. She snapped back to reality instantly.
1. Chapter 1

The first thought she had in mind when she stepped out of the taxi:

_It's cold._

That summed it up quite concisely. It was _indeed_ cold. And wet. The cloudy sky was a milky grey, one giant storm that loomed above the scrambling Paris pedestrians. The sun peeked out from its haven behind the storm barely, as if teasing the water-logged streets and gutters. _Come and get me._

The high rise buildings scraped the tip of the clouds, wonder-works of architecture. Cars honked impatiently at one another, the drivers straining to listen to the hardly audible radio over the rain. People without the luck of transportation scattered to the nearest shelter, thankful for the warmth inside, and birds were nowhere to be seen.

Ariadne swore as the Paris taxi mercilessly spattered street mud and gunk all over her new leather boots. They were the most expensive thing on her.

The pounding rain on back drenched her blue scarf and plastered her hair to her face. The just-shined boots had looked like they had been worn for years. Her back pack was completely soaked through and she gratefully thanked God that she had removed all of her textbooks and homework notes in the morning. She waved at the taxi that had oh-so-casually dumped her out in the pouring rain, intending to ask for directions, but the tobacco-chewing cabbie had already raced away.

Groaning, she realized that the cabbie had rushed off so quickly he hadn't even check whether she paid. The wadded ten was still in her fist, now soaked. It was the last bill she had on her, and thankfully shoved it back into her jeans pocket. She felt her body relax as her fingertips brushed up against cold metal. The totem.

Eames had contacted the team the other day, because of something for Cobb in America. She didn't know why in bloody Hell she was headed back to the group when she was supposed to be working on her architecture major, but it was so…

Addicting?

After the 10 hour flight to LA, everything changed for her. She felt her grades slipping, though just by a couple points, but it no longer had an effect on the over-achieving girl who used to hyperventilate when her grade point average went down 0.1 of a point. The architect major had lost all interest in architecture of the reality and was still in Dreamland, conjuring up monuments and mazes for a rag-tag team of criminals.

Was that what she was?

A criminal?

She shook the thought from her head and pushed the fears to the back of her head. The police would never connect a grad student to Fischer breaking up his empire. She had been warned by Cobb when they first met, that the job wasn't legal, that she had to have special skills and thinking back on it, why the heck did she accept? She mentally punched herself_. Stupid. Stupid._

It was like she had been the richest person in the world, had everything that she could have ever wished for, and all of a sudden reduced to the state of a beggar. Ariadne searched for the bishop in her jeans pocket and took it out. She hadn't had a doubt that she was in reality, she would have known for an instant if she weren't, but it was the reassurance that she was looking for. The bishop tipped over in her palm.

It tipped over in her palm.

A hazy memory of buildings tipping over, disentegrating in front of her very eyes. A world of destruction, false hope, and yet-

Ariadne found it appealing. She had the ability to build cathedrals, beautiful buildings thousands of stories high, a city taller than ever strived possible, intricate designs, mazes... The world she was in was _not real._ But it felt _real. _It felt so right. Building skyscrapers that made herself gape and using rusty designs that she had kept locked away in her mind because they were to complicated... She looked around the desolate streets surrounding her. _Her _world was so much more creative, original, inspirational. This world of reality was nothing but a simply recreation of the other world. The World of Dreams.

She shook her head frantically. This was _reality_. It was _her _world. What the hell was she drifting off to Dream-mode again for? Was she really losing track of reality?

Ariadne desperately looked around the bland streets, taking in every detail, so that if, _if, _she ever lost track of reality, she would be able to find her way back. She concetrated on every trivial detail, as sighed when she realized it was nothing compared to-

She frowned when she caught her reflection in a café mirror. _Great. I look like Hell. _She groaned and rushed inside the warm, inviting, not-wet café. 

Moments later, she hurried out of the tiny café, a small cappuccino in her hand. She realized that all she needed to feel awake again was just a healthy dose of caffeine. The pouring rain had reduced its self to a moderate drizzle.

Ariadne ran to her dorm, still refusing to get soaked again, and ran up the steps. She snatched her vibrating cell phone, answered it hurriedly when she saw the caller ID and frowned when she heard the voice.

"Hello, Ariadne. Long time no see."

Ariadne snorted as she walked into the grad school dorm. The drab grey slated walls matched the weather outside. "Eames. Hi."

She didn't even bother sounding upbeat. It was hard when you just had gallons of water poured on you and you were so cold your lips were turning blue.

"What's wrong? Cobb said to call you. He wants to meet in America. I figured you didn't have the tickets yet, so I mailed them to you. Fed Ex covers Paris, right?"

Ariadne wondered why the heck the stupid dorm managers kept AC on during the fall and winter. It definitely didn't cut down on living costs. She was shivering as she walked down the blasé hallways and quickly told Eames that Fed Ex did.

"Well, seeing as you're in such a chatty mood, I'll be quick. Check your mail. Keep the ticket, all of us will meet up in New York on the same day. Terminal 2, gate 43. 10:00 AM is when Yusuf's flight arrives, so we'll meet there at about 15 after. Cobb won't even tell me what's going on, so thought that would cheer you up. The tickets should be in your mailbox already. Fed Ex Express does 1-day deliveries."

She opened her mailbox and saw that Fed Ex, indeed, did 1-day deliveries. "Ok. Eames. I got the tickets."

She tore open the envelope. "_First-Class!_ Eames! Oh my god! Thanks!"

Eames chuckled and then hung up.

Ariadne took off her boots, dried them off and put them in her suitcase. She dug out her tennis shoes and was thankful that they were worn enough that a little rain could make much of a difference. She took a quick warm shower and packed all of her belongings. The flight was tomorrow.

She had no damn idea why she was going back to the team. She had a bunch of reasons not to, and was still trying to find one to. The darn illegal, _illegal_, job had gotten her in so many close calls that she was thankful to be alive. She was still trying to convince herself that the job was dangerous, one that she should go_ immediately_, but the team needed her. Right?

Sure, they could find another architect, the thought made Ariadne's stomach queasy, and she could get back to living the average college kid dream. Heh. Some "dream".

She was still thinking about the close calls that she had gotten into, getting mauled by a deceased wife, getting shot by a subconscious, getting run over by a train in the middle of traffic, etc, when the phone rang. She let it ring a few times before picking it up, to prevent losing her train of thought.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ariadne, it's Arthur."

She wanted sleep. "Hey."

"So, you already got your tickets?" He didn't even wait for her to answer. "I'm in Paris right now, just checking on everyone in the team. Cobb said that Eames already told you"—

"Yeah, he already called."

"Oh."

"So, why'd you call?"

"I'll see you tomorrow morning. We're on the same flight. I'll come pick you up at 7:00."

The phone line went dead.

_Oh-kay._

Ariadne shoved the last of her stuff into her tiny suitcase, she had been told to learn to pack so that her stuff could fit overhead, and fretted with the zipper. She put all of her books back into her backpack, which she had blow-dried with the rusty old hair drier in the bathroom. Her money was in her backpack as well. The only things in her pockets were her cell phone, a stick of gum, and her totem.

She took out the totem and admired her craftsmanship. The brass was scratch-less, a very surprising characteristic for her belongings, and glinted in the faint lighting of her room. She tipped it over, once, twice, then thrice, before picking it up. It felt so _right_ in her palm. Allowing herself to revel in its beauty for a couple more seconds, she pushed it far into her pocket to prevent losing it in the crowded streets of Paris.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Sorry, I forgot to do this in my first chapter...

Don't own anything of or related to Inception... Sadly. If I did, I would be living it up in my mansion who-knows-where.

Chapter Two: The Job

Ariadne woke up to an incessant banging on her door. She remembered setting her alarm but it hadn't gone off yet, and when she looked over to her nightstand, two first class air tickets were there to greet her.

_Crap. Wasn't Arthur supposed to— _That would explain the banging on her door.

She quickly brushed her "morning" hair and ran over to open the door. Arthur was standing in the too-small door frame, looking a bit irritated. He was ready, briefcase in hand, and the not-hidden-very-well handgun in his back pocket. How did he sneak that thing around?

Arthur looked downcast to find out that she had just woken up. "Hey."

He was wearing his leather jacket, the one that Ariadne had noted probably cost more than all of her clothed combined, and the formal slacks. She hated him for looking so formal when she was standing in front of him like an idiot wearing baby blue polka-dotted pajamas.

"Erm… Can you give me a moment, Arthur? I've got to"— she looked down at her disheveled sleepwear.

"Yeah. Fifteen minutes? I've also got to make a call."

She gladly shut the door.

Ariadne mentally punched herself again. _How the heck did I sleep through my alarm?_ Did it even go off? She angrily threw the useless alarm clock into her stuffed-to –bursting suitcase and hurriedly changed into her usual t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. After a five minute shower she quickly packed her things and met Arthur outside of her door. He had been angrily arguing with somebody on his $200 cell phone and Ariadne wanted to ask who he was fuming at, but thought the better of it. After all, she had shut him out for fifteen minutes and he didn't look too thrilled.

"So, Arthur, do you have any idea why Cobb isn't telling us anything?" Ariadne asked between sipping her coffee. She was sitting in the leather passenger seat of his BMW convertible and once again noted how every darn thing of his had to be some kind of genuine leather.

Arthur looked at her. "He hasn't told us anything either. I don't even know why he still wants to do this job after he's gotten what he's wanted all his life. Maybe he"— Arthur cut off like he was just about to reveal something and looked away. "Let's go to that"—

"Maybe what?" Ariadne began her questioning. She was used to getting answers out of Arthur and Cobb.

He didn't answer. Not that she expected him to.

She was about to throw a fit when his phone rang. _Ok. Lucky him. I'll ask later. _

"Hello?"

"Cobb? Hey. We're in Paris, heading to the airport. Yea… She's here. Wait what?" Arthur looked at Ariadne and she shrugged. "No. Not now."

He handed his phone to Ariadne. "Cobb wants to talk to you."

She snatched up the phone eagerly. "Hey."

"Ariadne. Do you have your totem? You'll need it."

Ariadne huffily noticed that he didn't even wait for her to reply. She had a bunch of questions bubbling up in her mind, and if she wasn't going to get answers, well, it would get _ugly._ "Cobb. What's our job?"

"It's an Extraction. A complex one. We might need more than one level for this job."

"Why?"

"Because we're doing Extraction on an Extractor."

"Um, won't that be a little hard? What if he's trained and… all that?"

"He is. Arthur and Eames are going to teach you how to use a gun. We need you on this dream, because you are going to have to make a maze so complex that you are the only one who can navigate it."

"Eh. Oh-Kay… Who are we working for?"

She waited for the answer to come. "Let me talk to Arthur."

"Who are we working for?"

"Give the phone to Arthur."

She sighed. At least she got some answers. She could easily weasel the others out of Arthur. "He wants to talk to you."

Arthur looked at her for a moment too long and took the phone. She looked away.

_Extraction on an Extractor?_ How the heck would that work?

She looked at the downtown Paris skyline, taking in the beautiful foggy mist that was delivered in the morning. The droplets in the air reflected the sliver of sun, refracting tiny rays of light onto the bustling streets. High-rise buildings blocked most of the view, but the serene background of pale blue sky and inviting clouds were still visible. The smell of the steaming half-finished cup of caffeine woke her up instantly, and the chilly gusts of wind helped her snap to her senses.

She wondered if the dream they entered would result in limbo if they died. Most likely would. Knowing Cobb, it definitely would. She pondered what it would be like to live in a dream for eternity and was shocked to find herself not frightened of it at all. What could be better than living in your own world, with everything of your own pure creation? And if everybody in the group found their way to limbo, it wouldn't be all that different from the real world would it?

_Of course it would be you half-brained idiot._ Ariadne forced herself to accept the fact like the law. _You can't do anything about it._

She thought about her mother. Then her father. Her heart ached. Was heaven just like limbo? Unconstructed dream space? Was she in all of her father's dreams as a five-year-old projection of her true self now? That was all that her father had left of her. A projection. Of what she was fifteen years ago. In that case, the Dream World, or heaven, both did not compare to reality. She would be deceived of what she presumed to be real, but really was what her mind understood it as.

Was it that bad?

_Yes, you stupid aardvark. _Now stop thinking about that and snap back to reality. She chuckled inwardly at the pun.

Arthur had asked her a question and was staring at her expectantly, as if waiting for an answer. She tried to meet his eyes.

"Ariadne? Are you alright?"

_Alright?_ Far from it. "Yeah. Don't worry about me."

"We've got to go the airport now. We've got a flight to catch."

She sat next to Arthur, in the window seat, looking out at the boring cliché airport scene. The airport was _huge._ They had gotten there about ten minutes before the flight to New York left and hardly had to wait at all. Ariadne shut the window, trying not to get bored already. She stretched her feet, chuckling to herself and remembering to enjoy the first-class experience, and turned to look at Arthur. He had his laptop out and was working on a document.

"Whatcha working on?" She peeked over his shoulder.

He quickly shut his laptop and turned towards her. "Just some stuff for the job." He smiled and unconvincing smile.

_So he does know more than I do. _

She didn't bother questioning more, all he would do was ignore her. Instead, she pulled out a book on architectural structures, she was studying it for school, and suddenly realized how much school she would be missing. "Crap."

He looked over to her, glad that she had dropped the inquiries and asked what was wrong.

"How am I going to make up school? And how am I going to explain my absences?" She glowered at him, as though all this was his fault.

"Oh. Cobb already spoke to Miles about it. Miles was going to say that something happened to your family, like maybe your father got sick, and"- He shut up really fast. "Maybe your mom's family visited. Something like that."

_Why did you pause after my father? He's already gone._ She felt her eyes blur. But there was no way he could know about that... Of course, she frowned at her paranoia, he's the dang pointman. He probably researched everything about her before she joined the team. It was slightly uncomfortable knowing that Arthur knew every single nook and cranny of her past.

She pushed the thought out of her mind and resumed her annoying, yet effective, answer retrieval. Arthur had opened his laptop again, thinking that he had her off to her own world, and was speaking with the flight attendant. "Water, thanks."

She took the chance and looked over his leather-clad shoulder at the laptop screen.

It was some long, not to mention boring, document about the next job offer. Well, what had she been expecting?

She wondered why she was being kept in the dark about the stupid job. She was, after all, one of the essential team members, right? Her temper flared, she _deserved_ to know _everything_ about the stupid job. She was the _architect, _for Pete's sake! How could they expect her to build mazes for some unknown job?

Ariadne read the first line, she convinced herself that she had _every _right to: _Suspect Brandon Wright. Age: 25 yrs, Weight: 193 lbs, Eyes: Brown, Hair: Brown, Height—_Boring. So this was the Extractor they were working on. She read on, hoping to find some information that would help her with building the set.

_Suspected to have performed Extraction in Businessman, Mr. Phillip Greene Minos, ambassador for the US Architectural Corporation to France, which resulted in Mr. Minos' untimely death._

What? She blinked, read the line again. And again. She took the totem out of her pocket, tipped it over, and read it again.

_Mr. Phillip Greene Minos._

It was just a coincidence, she reassured herself. But then why she wasn't told anything?

Just a coincidence. Breath. She held the bishop with bone-crushing strength. In medieval times, the bishop helped the king think thoroughly, like an advisor. Her totem being a bishop was a funny coincidence. Coincidence. Coinci-

_They were working on a case that involved her dead _father?


End file.
